


A Kneejerk Reaction

by mansikka



Series: Unkind Words And Never Meants [5]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Bottom Alec, Insecurity, M/M, Makeup Sex, POV Alec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-17 20:48:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12373758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: Magnus doesn't react well to the news that Alec will need to work away for a week, then makes it up to him.





	A Kneejerk Reaction

**Author's Note:**

> Hello :) there is a mention in this part about Alec one day becoming immortal, just so you know :) x

Alec knows he didn’t mean it. And he can tell by the way Magnus is trying to make eye contact with him just how much he regrets the words even coming out of his mouth. How much he wishes he could take those words back. Out of the two of them, it’s hard to say which of them is the most reactionary. Who wears the crown for being quickest to jump to conclusions, and who leads the championship in being more stubborn. Alec wishes they didn’t share those traits, that neither one of them had them. But that’s who they are, these things are facets of their personality, and as much as Alec would never ask Magnus to change anything about him, neither would Magnus ask such things of _him_. But it also means they both know which buttons to push, what comments will prove the most incendiary, and why both of them are guilty, at times, of not thinking long enough before they speak.

And the thing is, Magnus _has_ pressed those buttons. He’s not meant to, goaded into a corner by a bad day and a quicker temper, but the damage is already done. Alec’s reeling from it, an uncomfortable weight on his stomach for fighting to deny the accusations that have been thrown at him, and being so winded for them, that he’s got nothing he can say back.

“Alexander?” Magnus calls softly, doubt tinging his voice. Alec can’t even bring himself to look at him. His eyes are down on his hands, watching the way his thumb and finger press into the flesh of the other, squeezing a little too hard so the pain is there, instead of his heart. He can't look up, can’t let Magnus see just how badly this is affecting him. Needs his stomach to stop sinking, his spirit to stop slumping, and most of all, he needs some time.

“Alex—”

“I need some air,” he blasts out, voice not much above a whisper, and no tone to it at all.

“Okay,” Magnus replies easily, quickly, not fighting him at all. Knowing it’s what he needs, and that pushing in this situation isn’t going to help. It makes Alec ache even more, though, yet another demonstration that Magnus knows him so well; it’s a double-edged sword in these rare moments when there’s conflict between them.  

Alec wants to squeeze his hand in passing, reassure Magnus that he won’t be gone long, but he doesn’t, isn’t quite whole enough just yet to be able to be the one to offer comfort. And besides, he thinks, as he walks as calmly out the apartment as he can make his legs move, in this situation, he doesn’t think he’s the one in the wrong.

* * *

Magnus’ words chase Alec as he walks, wrapping around him in the whipped up wind, like an irritating scarf. It’s more the insinuations than anything else; that Alec would put his work, and duty, before giving any consideration to Magnus. That he would drop everything to respond to a call from his family when he’s _with_ Magnus, but is yet to do things the other way round. That he’s like his parents; stuck in long expired traditions and only able to respond blindly to instructions from the Clave without any thought for himself. And more than anything, that he’s destined to be like his father; a man who, despite the qualities Alec knows him to have, Magnus can only see bad things in. And it’s those things that taunt Alec, the things Magnus suggested he might become. A man who would put honor before his own family, duty before their happiness, justify his affairs as being out of his control.

Alec’s used to his occasional pointed comments about responding to Clave demands, has convinced him on more than one of those occasions, that at least on that point, as much as he is able to, he can prove him wrong. But the accusations about becoming the unpleasant side of _Robert_ leave Alec bruised. They’ve been together long enough now for Magnus to know that’s just not possible. He comes when _Magnus_ calls, he juggles prioritizing all the important people in his world. And he would never, in a million years, even consider being with anyone _but_ Magnus. He doesn’t even notice anyone else around him; Izzy says he’s got blinders on, but also that it’s a good thing. Alec can’t understand why a person that wasn’t Magnus would ever be of interest to him. And Magnus knows that. Knows all that love he has for Alec is returned completely, in entirety, heart and soul. The reason Alec doesn’t look at anyone but Magnus is because for him, there _is_ no one else but Magnus. He doesn’t know how to explain it, but Alec knows in his very being, that with Magnus is where he belongs.

Okay, Alec huffs to himself as he turns a corner and immediately regrets not picking up a jacket for the blast of wind hitting him, they’re both occasionally prone to bouts of jealousy. But it’s bouts of pointless jealousy they expose themselves to, they both know that. And when Magnus uses comparisons with _Robert_ to strike at him when they’re disagreeing on something, Alec can’t help but feel particularly offended. He’s proud of his father in so many ways, but _those_ things he loathes him for, and couldn’t try harder to distance himself from.

Alec knows where Magnus is coming from, in a way, though, he does; he’s not looking forward to spending a week away from Magnus back in Idris for a round of what will be the most annoying meetings either. And he knows Magnus’ complaint started out as an expression of how much he’ll miss him, spiraled into disdain for the Clave and its at-times archaic views and processes, then descended into assumptions about what else might happen following Robert’s path. Which is stupid, Alec huffs to himself, because he won’t do that in a million years. Nor is he likely to be Head of the Institute indefinitely; there’s too much about his life with Magnus that means he won’t get to do that.

Not that he _wants_ to do that, not now, Alec adds to himself as he walks; that is no longer the sole purpose in his life. It had been once, nothing but duty and following orders. But things are different now, _he_ is different; he has _Magnus_ to consider. And whatever Magnus is currently accusing him of, of making less time for him than he does for anyone else—which is _not_ true, and only a result of him dreading the time they’ll be apart when he’s in Idris—Magnus is important to him. In a lot of ways—in just about _all_ ways, more important than anything else, because he’s the one he’s _choosing_ to spend his life with.    

Before Magnus, Alec hadn’t known he could be any other way. Didn’t know he could be loved like Magnus loves him, didn’t realize how much he _needed_ to be himself—didn’t think there was anything in his future _but_ obeying the Clave. Alec’s future is now full of possibilities, and not just for the things he gets to have with Magnus. Magnus has opened his eyes to all kinds of things he didn’t know he could have in his world: things he does purely for enjoyment; things he has opinions about that are outside his own existence; things he cares about just because they’re important to _him_ , and all kinds of other things besides.

But he loves Magnus, and that is the thing that has shaped so much of his world. It’s not that Magnus uses his influence over him to his own advantage, but that he has, by loving him, given Alec the confidence and foundation to open his eyes to possibilities previously unknown. And their disagreement—because it’s really got no place being labelled as excessive as an _argument_ —was from a place of concern and love. Even if it was a little misguided.  

What Alec had been about to say to Magnus, before he launched into a tirade about the Clave, Alec’s ties to it, and how he fears he’ll end up just like a carbon copy of Robert Lightwood, was that he was working on a way round having all that time away. That he would either insist that Magnus be allowed to visit him, and stay with him for the duration he is in Idris, or that he will portal home each evening to be with him rather than stay there as is usually expected. Magnus hadn’t let him get his words out, Alec sighs to himself, remembering half a dozen times when he’s done the same thing to Magnus.

But Magnus, Alec sighs, has these bouts of crushing insecurity that no one else would notice, for not knowing Magnus as well as him. And this one’s been creeping up for a while now, due to Alec working more hours than normal, Magnus having to spend a little time away himself for his own responsibilities, and glib comments from other people who have no business commenting on anything about their relationship. Their relationship is _good_ , strong, and, Alec is fairly certain, unbreakable. There’s even more tentative talk of a future for them that doesn’t _end_ ; not that Magnus isn’t being overly careful about that as well, fearing that Alec doesn’t quite mean it when he says he wants a life with him that’s indefinite. Alec’s working on persuading him. He thinks it’s more about convincing Magnus he deserves to be loved that much, more than anything else. For everything he’s been through, Alec knows it’s going to take some time.

But he’s not going to do much persuading not being physically there with him, Alec thinks to himself, having now walked for approximately half an hour, and already aching to be home. He turns on his heel without even thinking about it, taking longer strides in his hurry to be back. And when he steps through the door just a few minutes later, having activated his runes so he could run there, it’s almost straight into Magnus’ waiting arms, sweeping him up in a hug that’s full of relief.

“I’m sorry,” Magnus says, whispering and kissing it into his neck, “I didn’t mean—”

But Alec cuts him off by cupping his face and pulling him forward into a kiss, sighing his way into it even as he stumbles forward, that weight pressing down on his stomach dissipating just for Magnus’ touch. “I know,” he says when he pulls back, still holding on to his face and smiling.

“Alexander, I—”

But Alec cuts him off with another kiss, not needing to hear it, wrapping him up tight in his arms and explaining what he was thinking about Idris before he lets the words get trapped again. Magnus’ look for him when he’s finished is contrite, hopeful, and adoring, but he doesn’t say a single word. He just leans up to kiss him then grips briefly around his waist, nudging so he knows to follow him to their bedroom, where he undresses him with gentle hands—instead of the impatient magic he sometimes uses—then lays him out on their bed.  

“Let me make it up to you,” he urges, standing to the side of the bed as he undresses with his eyes on Alec the entire time.

“You don’t need to,” Alec tells him, though is already reaching for him, sliding his hands up Magnus’ sides as he settles instantly between his legs, and accepting a kiss the second he ducks down for it, sweeping his hands repeatedly over his back.   

“I’m going to anyway,” Magnus tells him, stirring his hips in that way that says for Alec, this might be a long, long evening.  

Alec won’t even pretend to mind. Not when Magnus is already toppling to his side and propping himself up on an elbow, nudging on Alec’s knee to push it away, then draping the other over his own legs. Alec’s stomach clenches at how exposed he feels, and how Magnus’ gaze is sweeping up the length of him. But then Magnus is clicking his fingers, and his hand glistens with the oil Alec knows he has a preference for using when they’re like this, and all he can do is accept the kiss Magnus is bending down to offer as he lowers his hand.  

“I’m sorry I didn’t wait to hear you out,” Magnus whispers against his lips before pulling back to look at him, his hand swirling over the length of him, teasing and coaxing as Alec slowly begins to stir.

“I could’ve explained better,” Alec says, though it’s faint because he’s concentrating on the way Magnus is alternately gripping then trailing his fingertips over him, sending shoots of warmth through Alec that makes him part his legs a little further still.

“I heard _Idris_ , and I heard _a week_ , and the first thing I could think of, was that you’d come back after that week, and be different with me,” Magnus admits, sighing a little to himself, even as he drops his hand from Alec’s cock to his balls, squeezing and stroking in all the ways he knows Alec likes. Alec drops his head back with his throat clicking, the coolness of the air rushing at his slicked up cock adding to the heat already building in his gut. And then Magnus is gripping him again before he can say a word, apparently in no hurry as he takes his time to stroke him to full hardness, just happy to explore and seek out even more grips and squeezes that feel good.

“I never wanna be different with you,” Alec manages to get out when his thoughts unfog a little, lifting his head enough to watch Magnus’ hand before he’s groaning again.

“I know,” Magnus agrees with a smile and another kiss. But they both know that even with those best of intentions, either of them immersing themselves fully in their _own_ worlds for an extended period unlocks previous habits. Where Magnus becomes a little more theatrical and sharp with his opinions, and Alec either becomes closed off, or all his words come out harsh. It’s something they’ve both acknowledged without voicing out loud, and made silent agreements to work on. It’s a work in progress, Alec thinks, moaning out a little when Magnus presses his thumb hard against the underside of his cock in the exact spot he knows to, and rewards Alec for his noises with a pleased smile.

“And I really do want you to be there, if you want it,” Alec adds, splaying his legs further still, humming and jolting as Magnus first clicks his fingers to conjure more oil to them, then runs a rough grip up the length of him before circling his thumb in insistent swirls over his head.  

“It would be… problematic,” Magnus says, and there’s regret there, as well as interest. He’s said in the past, perhaps joking, that he’s often wondered what it would be like to walk the streets of Idris with Alec, hand in hand. They do that often enough here in the city, and every other place they visit together, but in Idris? The looks they would get, the comments they would invite, Alec thinks, having to close his eyes as another wave of pleasure demands his full attention. Alec half-wants to do it just to kick up a fuss in protest about all their outdated notions in Idris, yet also knows the slightest unkindness shown to Magnus would likely have him ready to cause a riot in his defense.

“Then… we’ll figure out a way for me to portal back,” Alec says, arching up at particularly good squeeze of Magnus’ hand.

“The portal between the Institute, and Idris, is permanent,” Magnus points out, swirling his thumb over Alec’s head in a tease that leaves him whimpering, and smiling down at him wickedly before ducking for a kiss.

“Yeah,” Alec gasps out, “but they… the meetings go on for hours, and they… they kind of expect you to stay,”

“I could have you back in minutes,” Magnus says, speeding up the way he’s stroking him so all Alec can really focus on aside from how that feels, is the sound of the slickness of his grip.

“You could,” Alec agrees, panting, “but they—”

“Alexander,” Magnus says, swirling his thumb and altering his grip again, “for too long the Clave has attempted to control everything, about everyone—Downworlders and Shadowhunters alike,”

Alec can’t argue, partly for the truth in what he’s saying, and partly because it’s hard to concentrate with the way Magnus is jerking him off.

“I—”

“A little rebellion, now and then, is good for the soul,” Magnus teases, “as well as reminding such… _institutions_ , that it is not their place to control every aspect of a person’s life. Including their Heads of Institutes,” he adds, changing his grip yet again in a way that’s making Alec arch up.

“Magnus,” Alec breathes out, rocking up into his hand attempting to chase more of that pleasure, then calling out in protest, as just as he feels that heat building in him ready to crest, Magnus drops him, leaving his cock jolting, seeking out more friction, and no source for it.

“Not yet,” Magnus tells him, leaning down for a kiss that lasts just as long as it takes Alec to calm. And then he’s clicking his fingers for yet more of that oil, and Alec’s feeling his cheeks parted, then bearing down on the finger being slid into his ass. Magnus smiles down at him but says nothing, adjusts a little so he’s lying on his forearm, fingers playing absently with strands of his hair as his other hand works into him, slow and lazily opening him up.

“I like it when you’re like this,” Magnus tells him, soft as he begins to stroke over his prostate.

“Like what?” Alec manages to blurt out, even as the words tail off into a whine.

“This,” Magnus insists with a gentle twist and swirl of his fingers, and Alec can’t say anything else. That Magnus has done this to him, countless times, and still seems to make every time feel different continues to take him by surprise. He tilts his head up to be kissed since he’s not capable of words, and Magnus gives that to him easily, then pulls back with a sigh. “You are laid out before me, allowing me to give you pleasure, trusting me to be this intimate with you, and willingly letting all of it happen. Not trying to take control,” he adds with a soft kiss, smiling as a swirl of his fingertips has Alec calling out for how much he’s enjoying it, “not trying to hurry things along. Just letting me get my fingers into you, and make you feel good. It is a gift,”

Alec huffs, because he’s incapable of anything else, just continues to arch up for every slide of fingers into him, and catch Magnus grinning at him every time he manages to open his eyes. Magnus leans down to kiss him then, and Alec’s eyes are squeezing shut again, unable to do anything but whimper, and writhe, as Magnus alternates between massaging his prostate and opening him up, and wrapping his fingers around his cock. And Alec knows he’s probably exaggerating, but it feels like it’s going on for hours. That pleasured heat is building in him teasingly slow, and the only sign that Magnus might be ready to move things along is the hard press of his cock into Alec’s side.

An age later, because Alec’s lost all sense of time, and Magnus is rearranging himself between Alec’s legs, bending over to mouth along his neck, ducking down to kiss a path over his chest and stomach, lapping a teasing tongue out over his head that leaves Alec gasping, then leaning back up to smile at him, stirring his hips so that they’re knocking and sliding together, humming the entire time.

“May I?” he says, and Alec smiles at the tone of formality. He reaches for Magnus, stroking him over and groaning to feel that he’s already slicked up, then nodding and humming himself, for the slide of Magnus’ hands up the underside of his thighs. “Look at me,” Magnus urges softly, arranging himself on both his forearms and still toying with his hair. Alec looks up to see amber blinking back at him, and runs his fingers up over his back, arching up in invitation. And without breaking that eye contact, Magnus begins to slide into him, groaning out soft as he fills him, then dropping his head down into the crook of Alec's neck with a moan. "I need you,"

Alec sweeps his hands up over Magnus' back, squeezes him between his thighs, clenches around him inside, then slots his hand through the back of his hair as his arm drapes across his back to pull him closer still. If he could get to the root of whatever has triggered this particular bout of insecurity, then he would, but sometimes Magnus doesn't even know what causes it. And so Alec does all he can do, by holding on tight, waiting until Magnus begins to relax in his arms, then kissing the side of his head when he feels lips at his neck. "Magnus, you always have me. Always,"

"I love you," Magnus whispers as he leans back up to look at him, and for a little longer they only look at one another, the occasional swirls of fingers wherever they can get to, and the sweetest, softest of smiles. And then Magnus is moving, ducking for occasional kisses, once or twice biting down on his own lip, humming when Alec cries out for each surge of heat rippling through his core. Alec feels every exploration, every angling of his hips, every experimental slide that’s seeking out new ways to give him pleasure, and is overwhelmed by it all. He smiles back up at Magnus, voicing out everything that feels good to him, nodding when he whispers either suggestions or praise, and if his plan is to make him melt into the very mattress in an attempt to make up for his earlier anger, Alec thinks he’s succeeding; one jolt of pleasure at a time.

And when he comes, Magnus sustains it as long as possible, a light pulse passing through Alec that he’s come to associate with Magnus’ magic; leaving him calling out and keening at that continual pleasured pressure, as Magnus too takes his fill, then slumps forward into the crook of his neck, spent, mouthing and groaning into his skin.

“Just so you know,” Alec says, sleepily as he swirls his hands up over Magnus’ back, “this is the best way you have ever said sorry to me,” and he feels Magnus smile into his neck as he catches his breath, and echoes that with his own smile as he wraps his arms around him. “But we could… just do this without the arguing,” Alec whispers, and it’s enough to have Magnus lift his head, grin at him and blast out a sigh that’s apologetic, nodding at the same time. But then he gets a look about him that Alec knows is a warning of something mischievous, and the next thing he knows he’s squealing in protest, with Magnus shifting just enough to run his fingers in a repeated teasingly light brush up his sides.

“Magnus,” he calls out, but it’s too late; that glint in his eye means trouble. Magnus has him pinned down and is tickling him mercilessly, laughing harder as Alec squeaks and strains against it, laughing so hard himself there are tears leaking out his eyes.

“Ungrateful,” Magnus announces, full of mirth as he continues to tickle him, “unappreciative—”

“I _do_ appreciate—”

But Magnus has cut him off again, by effortlessly flipping Alec on to his front and sitting down hard on the backs of his thighs. And no matter how hard Alec struggles, Magnus keeps tickling him, easing up enough for him to think he’s finished by tracing the paths of his fingers with sweet kisses, then starting up all over again. By the time Magnus really is finished with tickling him, they’re both flat on their backs, breathing hard, with occasional blasts of laughter still bursting out of their mouths. Alec slaps the back of his hand down on Magnus’ stomach, and Magnus leans just enough to kiss his shoulder, but otherwise they just lay there recovering.  

Alec makes a disgruntled noise at how sticky he’s feeling, and Magnus huffs in response without even needing him to say a word, lazily raising his hand to magic them both clean. Then they’re rolling together on their sides and grinning stupidly at each other, and Alec tells himself he’s completely forgotten what they were even arguing about. He loves it when they’re together like this, Alec thinks, as Magnus smiles at him; however they’ve got there. He tangles Magnus’ fingers through his own in the gap between them, tucks himself into the very edge of his pillow so he’s close enough to kiss him, then closes his eyes with a contented sigh.

 

 


End file.
